


The Sleeping Beauty by the Silver Lake

by duckgirlie



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 18:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/pseuds/duckgirlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Chris is imprisoned, Zach is really not the princess-rescuing kind, and Zoe is bad-ass for hire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleeping Beauty by the Silver Lake

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/trek_rpf_kink/2887.html?thread=3159367#t3159367) in the [](http://community.livejournal.com/trek_rpf_kink/profile)[**trek_rpf_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/trek_rpf_kink/) meme. Fairytale AU. Contains mild genderbending (it's magic, yo') My first foray in Star Trek RPS.

  


Zach is a prince. And what do princes do? They rescue princesses, that's what. The fact that Zach has no particular desire for (some might even say an outright aversion) rescuing princesses doesn't seem to matter.

(And _seriously_ , what was it with princesses and constantly needing to be rescued? Zach refuses to believe they can possibly be that useless.)

But as much as he tried to avoid it, it seemed to be pretty much inevitable. Which explained why, once again, Milo was advising him that people were starting to get antsy.

"Can't you just try and rescue someone?" He asked plaintively.

"That would be disingenuous, wouldn't it? I wouldn't want to give some poor girl the wrong impression."

Milo paced back and forth across the room, chewing on a fingernail.

"But can't you at least act like you don't _not_ want to rescue princesses?"

"How exactly does that work? Should I go to the window twice a week and loudly proclaim that I wish there were more princesses in need of rescuing..."

"Of course not..."

"Because I can imagine if that happened a good deal of princesses would suddenly find themselves in dire need."

Zach flung himself into his chair petulantly and started fiddling with his hair.

"I don't even understand the big deal. Why should I go off rescuing a princess? I'm perfectly capable of doing everything princely that needs to be done."

Milo stopped in front of Zach's desk and sighed again.

"Because." He tapped his fingers. "It's what's done. Princes have been rescuing princesses for hundreds of years. If you want to be King, you're going to have to deal with what your subjects want, and everyone knows that the subjects expect their princes to go off, rescuing princesses. They won't quite trust you as a king otherwise."

"That's stupid. Just because I don't want to go of breaking curses and rescuing stupid princesses doesn't mean I can't be king."

"If you haven't proved you’re able to rescue a princess from a tower, how are they supposed to trust that you can protect the kingdom from rampaging hoards?"

He dumped a pile of scrolls across the desk and stormed out of the door.

Zach shuffled through the pile of paper before shoving everything to the ground and storming off in the opposite direction.

  


*****

  
For the next while, things quieted down. Milo stopped bringing him lists of princesses trapped by curses or dragons, and Zach placed orders for various pieces of outdoorsy equipment with the local blacksmith, trying to look like he didn't find the idea of rescuing princesses quite so preposterous.

But, like anything, the situation eventually reached a crisis point, and suddenly everything collapsed.

  


*****

  
Zachary stormed into the throne room to find his mother and Milo discussing things in an ominous manner.

"What do you mean it's not an option?"

His mother opened her mouth to reply, but Milo answered instead.

"I did explain this to you several times. You weren't listening."

"So now I _have_ to rescue a princess? Or something terrible will happen?"

Zachary threw himself into the second throne and did his best to ignore Milo, turning to his mother. She patted him gently on the hand.

"Years ago, just after you were born, the kingdom was beset by a terrible enemy. Try as we might, our army was not enough to fight them back, and your father sent out a call for help to every kingdom between here and the mountains. Many of our neighbors were also at war, so we feared that help would never come. Finally, as we reached the end of our abilities to defend ourselves, help came from another kingdom, across the lake, and we were able to emerge from the war victorious."

The Queen stood up from her throne and crossed the room to a window, gazing out across the wide stretch of water.

"Without their help, we would have been overthrown for sure. The king and queen of the other kingdom knew this, and that we owed them an almost impossible debt. We are a small kingdom, and we feared that debt could never be repayed. Until now."

Milo handed Zachary a large scroll baring the seal of another kingdom.

"The princess has been taken by an evil spirit, and none have been able to rescue her. We are their last hope for the future of their kingdom, just as you are the last hope for ours."

"What are you talking about? If she doesn't get rescued, that sucks for them, but can't we just find another way to repay them? Something else will come up, some other reason they need us."

Milo smiled sadly and produced another scroll. "If you are not married by the time your mother dies, you cannot take the throne."

The queen turned back from the window and re-took her throne. "You have left it late to marry, Zachary. If you do not find a bride soon, I fear it may be too late. This princess may be our last hope."

Zachary stood up from his seat and fled the throne room, leaving his mother and Milo alone, their fingers tightly crossed.

  


*****

  
Later that night, Milo arrived in Zach's room as the prince was pacing around, tossing clothing across the bed.

"What the fuck, Milo? How has it taken this long to tell me that if I don't rescue a princess and get married, I can't be the king?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you that on several occasions."

Zach stopped pacing and glared angrily. "I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT LITERALLY."

"I don't use metaphors when I'm dealing with the future of the kingdom."

Zach threw his hands in the air and flung himself onto his bed. "If you'd mentioned that the first time you trotted out one of these rescue missions I would have gone, gotten married, and we'd all be fine."

Milo sat down heavily next to him. "She was trapped by a pretty evil sorceress. With a dragon. I'm pretty sure you would have ended up dead if I'd sent you out there."

"What has you so certain I won't die this time? Then there'll be _two_ kingdoms without a future ruler."

"You managed to rescue Kristen."

"Kristen wasn't trapped by a dragon. Or a curse. She'd gotten pissed off, run away, and fallen down a well. Anyone could have rescued her."

"Still..." Milo slumped slightly against the bedpost. "You've got _some_ experience. And there aren't any more princes available. You're their last hope."

Groaning heavily, Zach buried himself deeply under his bed covers. Milo made a perfunctory attempt to comfort him, gently patting where his shoulder probably was.

"This is going to go terribly, terribly wrong. I'm going to die. "

"You're not going to die. You'll probably just end up married and slightly singed.

"Then I'm either going to die, or I'm going to end up married to some princess who things I'm the kind of person who rescues princesses."

"That sounds about right." Milo got off the bed. "The things you do to preserve your kingdom."

Zach pulled himself out from under the covers. "I hate you."

"You should probably visit the blacksmith tomorrow. Actually pick up all that princess-rescuing equipment you've got waiting for you. You haven't got much time before it's too late."

He ducked out the door before a heavily-brocaded pillow hit his head.

  


*****

  
Zach decided that if he was going to rescue a princess, he might as well give it his best shot. Which is how the following morning found him meeting with the blacksmith.

The stable was now strewn with more equipment then he could possibly need. There appeared to be at least three broadswords, which was ridiculous, because even if he was in a situation where one wasn't enough, he only had two hips.

The blacksmith was carefully demonstrating all the pieces, waving sharp pieces of metal and straps of leather around far too enthusiastically for Zach's comfort. Fifteen minutes into the meeting, the blacksmith finally stopped.

"You don't look too enthusiastic."

"Hmm?" Zach shook himself back to attention. "I'm not too familiar with any of this stuff."

"You're a bit old to be rescuing your first princess."

"I never found one I was up to rescuing?" Zach tried to sound nonchalant.

The blacksmith laughed. "Do you have any idea what you'll do?"

"Walk until I find the castle, slay the dragon, thrown her over my shoulder and come home?"

"You'll just use the door?"

"Don't they have doors?"

"Not usually. I had to make a grappling hook for the prince who rescued Princess Hayden. She was trapped in a sixty-foot tower. He dislocated his shoulder carrying her down."

Zach sat down heavily on a pile of straw. "Ohhhhhh I'm going to die."

The blacksmith cast an appraising look over Zach. "You're really not up for this, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Say I knew someone who could help?"

"Help how? Could go off and rescue her for me?"

"Not entirely. If she's cursed, then you'll probably have to do something to free her, and hired help wouldn't be able to do that. Besides, would you really want a wife that someone else had rescued for you?"

"Believe me, if I have to have one, I don't really care how she gets here."

The blacksmith laughed again. "You're leaving tonight? Wait a while outside the oak grove, and help will arrive before you leave. Just don't mention this to anyone. It kind of defeats the point if you have to have help."

Zach pulled himself out of the hay and shook the man's hand.

"If I make it back alive, I'll give you whatever you ask."

"Good luck, Prince Zachary."

As Zach left the stables to collect the rest of his supplies, the blacksmith continued under his breath, "you'll definitely need it."

  


*****

  
That night, Milo helped Zach pile all his equipment onto a horse and wished the prince well as he set off into the night.

Zach whistled under his breath as he headed away from the castle, leading his horse towards the small tree grove the blacksmith had told him to wait at. He waited in the saddle for a while before hopping off and wandering off to try and find whomever he was meeting. He’d barely taken three steps before he heard the whisper of a sword exiting a scabbard and a split-second later he found himself against the nearest tree, a sharp blade pressed against his throat.

A low voice emerged from the darkness. “It’s not good for princes to stray this far from the castle.”

Zach swallowed deeply and tried to answer, but the sword prevented him. He tried his best to look apologetic and the blade was shifted slightly away.

“I’m meeting someone, for something. I was sent by…” he searched his mind for a name, “…the blacksmith.”

“Oh,” the voice moved slightly away, and the sword was returned to its scabbard.

A light flared in the darkness and a figure emerged from the shadows.

A female figure.

Zach relaxed against the tree. “Are you..?”

She pulled a glove off and offered her hand. “Zoe Saldana.”

He shook her hand, but couldn’t stop his eyebrow from arching quizzically.

She turned away from him and swung up onto her horse in a single easy movement. “You got a problem getting help from a woman?”

“Aren’t women supposed to be the ones being rescued?”

She answered his look with her own raised eyebrow, “look, if you don’t want my help…”

“No!” Zach took a step forward. “I do want your help, definitely. Need your help.”

He took another step forward and pulled himself onto his own horse, with considerably less grace then Zoe had. Probably because Zoe wasn’t hindered by wearing two swords.

“Alright, lets go.”

Her horse moved away with the smallest of commands and Zach followed, trying not to be irritated by fact that Zoe seemed to have more control of his horse then he did.

  


*****

  
They’d been travelling for hours when it occurred to him that he was currently being led somewhere by a complete stranger, purely on the advice of his blacksmith. Not even on his advice even, on her word that it was on his advice.

He tried to push his horse up alongside hers, but Noah was stubbornly refusing to behave himself.

“If you have a question you can ask me.”

Damn her and her mysterious powers of observation. At least Noah was co-operating, trotting up along side her.

“How do you even know where you’re going?”

“I have my connections.”

He didn’t believe her, and said as much. She smiled widely in response.

“He told me you were rescuing a princess, and there’s only one trapped at the moment. It wasn’t hard to figure it out.”

“So where is it?”

In a moment of narrative good-fortune they arrived at the edge of the forest, and Zoe gestured to a castle on the far side of the lake.

“Over there.”

  


*****

  
Zoe pitched their tent on the banks of the lake and lit a fire while Zach stood quietly by the horses and stayed out of her way.

“You can come over now.”

He sat down by the fire and curled his legs underneath himself. She handed him some bread and started polishing her sword.

“So,” he coughed quietly. “How did you get in this line of work?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, carefully polishing the edge of her blade, before returning it to its scabbard and fixing him with an intense look.

“You’d be surprised how many men aren’t cut out for rescuing.”

“Really?” Zach’s interest perked up slightly. “Do you work with a lot of princes?”

“A few.” She answered carefully. “Not usually as close to the throne as you though. First-borns usually have the training themselves, it’s considered a necessity. But younger princes? A few, though they’re usually not up against much. No evil force is going to go all out to keep a minor prince away from his bethroved.”

“So you’ve never been up against anything this big?”

That earned him another _look_. “Are you saying you don’t think I can do it?”

He shrank back slightly under her gaze. “No, no, no, nothing like that. I have complete faith in…”

“Good.” She cut him off. “Because this is going to be a big step up for me, and I’m not letting you fuck it up.”

“Em… You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right? Because my subjects need to think I rescued her all my myself.”

She laughed heartily and nearly rolled over.

“You’re subjects can believe whatever they want, but any courtly advisor from here to the mountains is going to know full well you didn’t slay a dragon all by yourself. And who do you think normally hires me?”

Zach stared down at his feet in the dirt. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you’re not the storm a castle, rescue a princess kind?” She smiled warmly. “Just a bit.”

“Thanks.” Zach pulled a face as he stared into the fire.

“But then, once you’re king, rescuing princesses tends not to come up, so it doesn’t really matter what kind of prince you were.”

  


*****

  
In the morning, the castle seemed closer, and they set out just as the sun was creeping over the horizon.

Aside from a brief attack by bandits, fought off ably by Zoe whilst Zach hid, the journey was uneventful, and they reached the castle by mid-afternoon.

From a small distance, Zoe took the scene in. “Hmm.”

“Hmm? What does that mean? Is it bad? Is it too much?”

Zoe’s look silenced him immediately and he waited for her to continue speaking.

“Right.” She pulled her sword from her belt and started gesturing. “There’s a door.”

“That’s goo…” She cut him off with another look and he snapped his mouth shut, chastened.

“But there’s also a dragon. At least one dragon, watching the door. There’s also some windows, but they’re a little high, and you don’t look like much of a climber.”

“I can climb.”

“Really?” She looked sceptical.

“Sort of…”

Zoe turned back towards the horses, unpacking something from one of the saddlebags. She tossed him a giant coil of rope, which he promptly dropped.

Zoe was started to get a look that said this was proving to be far more difficult then she had anticipated.

Zach struggled for a second, but he soon had the rope wrapped up tightly in his arms. Zoe shook her head.

“Lets give the door a try.”

“Okay.”

“You might want to change.” She gestured at Zach’s leather pants.

“Why?”

“Those are a bit… restrictive.” Zoe was trying to avoid laughing.

“They’re fireproof!” He insisted.

“If you insist.”

She dug around some more in her saddlebag, before handing him a large club.

“You might have more success with this.”

“What’s wrong with my sword?”

“You’re sword _s_ aren’t going to do much good still in their scabbards. And try not to be too insulted if I doubt your ability to quickly draw one when faced with a dragon.”

Zach huffed indignantly and yanked one of the swords out. It stuck half-way and he had to struggle to get the rest of it out. He looked at Zoe, who was doing an admirable job of keeping a straight face, and took the club.

Zoe drew her sword in one fluid movement and started moving towards the castle, gesturing for Zach to follow her. They made their way carefully towards across the clearing, and Zach was almost convinced they’d make it to the building completely safe.

Less then a minute later, the clearing fills with a smokey roar. It takes Zach less then fifteen seconds to trip over his long sword and hit the ground. He manages to crawl until he hits something, and spends the next twenty minutes covering his face and lashing out with the club.

He doesn’t hit anything.

The roaring gives way to a depressing rasping, and Zach lets the club fall to the ground.

“You can look now.”

He does, and the smoke clears to reveal Zoe, standing on top of the dragon, her sword buried to the hilt in its neck.

“All clear.” She announced, jumping down to the ground in a single movement and landing lightly in front of him, sheathing her sword easily.

She offered him her hand and hauled him to his feet, leaving him to helplessly dust himself off as she strode over to attempt the door.

Zach followed her over once he’d resigned himself to the fact that most of these stains weren’t ever coming out.

After Zoe banged on the door a few times and jiggled the handle, just in case, she got down on her knees and started peering through the lock. She started sticking various implements into it, testing its resistance, listening for the telltale click.

“What’s going on?” Zach asked, hovering behind her.

Zoe turned her head and gave him a stern look, and he stepped back carefully. She turned fully and flexed her fingers.

“I don’t think the door itself is cursed. You can tell, usually, the wood kind of… thrums, when you touch it. But I’m pretty sure the lock is, because my pick isn’t meeting any kind of resistance.” She dusted her hands off on her knees. “I think I’ll have to take the door off its hinges.”

“Do you need any help?” Zach offered.

She set to work. “Just keep out of the way.”

The big door had five hinges holding it in place, and they were all pretty resolutely stuck in place. It took Zoe a good hour to get the first one off, Zach shuffling about aimlessly in the background. She was halfway through the second one when he wandered over and leaned on the door to watch her work.

The instant his shoulder touched the door, there was an audible popping sound, and the lock practically shot out of the door, landing a few feet away in the dust. Zach and Zoe both sprang back from the door reflexively, and it slid slowly open.

“Em… Is that normal?”

Zoe took a step forward and prodded the door with her toe. “Not really.”

She tugged agitatedly on her ponytail.

“The lock was cursed to keep people out. It shouldn’t just _stop_ being cursed all of a sudden, things don’t work that way.”

“Is it bad?”

She hefted her sword up to attack stance and turned to face the door. “Either this was supposed to throw us off, and there’s something even worse waiting in there, or your princess has a fairy godmother working some true-love stuff on her side.”

She motioned for him to follow her as she slowly stepped through the door.

“But that would require you actually be her true love, which is either extremely unlikely, or extremely unfortunate for the poor girl. So lets keep on our guard, okay?”

Zach fiddled nervously with his club and kept darting glances around the halls as they made their way carefully through the castle. He couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved or terrified by the dead silence permeating the halls.

Suddenly, Zoe stiffened in front of him, and pressed the two of them against the wall. The sound of off-key singing was beginning to float down from the tallest tower.

“Do you think that’s her?”

“I’m pretty sure princesses can sing better.”

“Then what…” His voice rose slightly and she clapped her hand over his mouth.

“Quiet!”

They resumed their movements, approaching the top of the tower (and why were princesses _always_ up high?) with more careful movements, until they finally arrived in a room festooned with more ivy then seemed feasible.

There was a bed under the window, presumably containing Princess Whitelaw, but the clouds of smoke surrounding the bed and swirling around their ankles. Zach was about to take a step forward and finally be proactive about this whole rescuing thing, but Zoe held him back and took a careful step forward herself.

The singing was coming from a curly-haired boy sitting cross-legged on the floor. He looked more bored then Zach had ever seen anyone, ever. And Zach had sat through many, many, civic planning round-tables.

Zoe coughed, experimentally. The boy looked up sharply, and his face lit up with surprise.

“Yes!” He squealed, jumping to his feet and running over.

“Have you been waiting for me?”

“Well, not _you_ , specifically. But someone.”

He stuck his hand out excitedly, but when Zach reached out to take it, Zoe slapped his hand down.

“Who are you here for?” She asked, pointedly.

He took a step backwards and rubbed his head. “Well, the witch wants me to stop anyone getting in. But the King and Queen want to stand guard and wait for the rescue.”

He smiled apologetically. “I don’t entirely remember who asked me first. But I can promise you that I’ve been here a _really_ long time, and I just want to leave. So if you’re here for rescuing, I’m not going to stop you. At all.”

Zach looked back and forth between the boy and Zoe, until her face finally softened slightly and she shook his hand. She turned to Zach and nodded him over towards the bed.

The boy followed him over. “I thought it was just an awakening-kiss deal, pretty standard stuff, you know? But a few princes have been and tried, but nothing happened. So, fingers crossed.”

He held up both his hands, his fingers exaggeratedly cross, and smiled widely. Zach looked at Zoe for reassurance, and she smiled encouragingly and held up her own tightly crossed fingers.

Zach leaned over the bed and did his best to wave some of the smoke out of the way. He managed to clear enough smoke to get a good look at her face.

She was beautiful, he supposed. Dark brown hair and a deeply peaceful expression. If he was going to have a wife, he supposed he could do worse. She was entirely still, barely breathing, and he waved the rest of the smoke from her face before leaning down to kiss her.

The second their lips met, Zach could feel a thrum of magic spread throughout the entire room, throwing him back to the floor. He rubbed his hand over his tingling lips until Zoe pulled him to his feet.

The smoke was gone. One the bed, the princess had rolled over on to her side, and curled herself into a ball. Her eyes were still closed, but now she looked like she was sleeping, instead of under a spell.

The boy moved over and poked her slightly in the shoulder, and she reflexively shifted away and rubbed her face.

Zoe came up to stand behind him.

“Well Zach. Looks like you’ve got yourself a wife.”

Zach didn’t quite know how to deal with that.

  


*****

  
The night was closing in, so they decided to spend the night in the castle. The boy, who introduced himself as Anton, showed Zoe to another bedroom, and offered to find one for Zach as well, but he was too on edge to sleep.

Zach sat cross-legged on the floor of the tower room, watching the princess sleep. He could still feel the warmth from the kiss on his lips, which was deeply confusing, for many reasons.

He must have dozed off at some point during the night, because the next thing he knew he was being woken by a loud shout.

“FUCK YEAH.”

He looked around quickly for the source of the voice, until his gaze finally settled on the bed under the window.

Where the princess had been the night before, there was now a stunningly gorgeous man. Who slid to the ground and jumped to his feet, bouncing around the room.

“Em…” Zach started, nervous. “What happened to the princess?”

The man stopped suddenly, and wrapped his arms around his chest, sheepishly.

“That was me.”

Zach opened his mouth to ask more questions, but the man took a few steps forward and stopped in front of him.

“It’s a really, really long story, which I’ll totally tell you at some point, but right now…” He trailed off, and ran over to the window. “Right now, I want to go outside.”

The man took off again, skidding to a halt beside Zach to pull him to his feet and pulling him down the stairs with him.

Most of the ivy had disappeared, and even though it was barely dawn outside, the castle seemed lighter. They burst out the door and the man threw himself to his knees, running his hands excitedly through the grass.

“This stuff is _amazing_.”

“… It’s just grass.”

The man pulled himself to his feet. “Do you know how long I was up there for? I didn’t think I was ever going to get rescued. Most of the princes who come rescuing princesses are actually looking for, you know, _a princess_.”

“I’ve never really been the princess-rescuing kind.”

“Does that mean you still want to marry me? Even after you’ve seen…” He gestured to himself.

“I can’t marry you until I know your name.”

The man smiled. “I’m Chris.” He gestured around. “And this was my kingdom.”

“I’m Zach.” He pointed across the river, his own home just visible in the distance. “And that’s mine.”

The man smiled again, just as it began to rain. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as the fat droplets spattered on his face, and ran his hands through his wet hair.

It only took seconds for them both to be soaking wet, and when Zach started to shiver Chris stopped laughing and wrapped his hands around Zach’s shoulders, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

The exact same tingly warmth as before spread through Zach, but amplified a million times. And this time, it wasn’t confusing at all.


End file.
